


Some Nights

by MintIceTea



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Operation: Endgame (2010)
Genre: Anyem, Belle x Hierophant, Em Squared, Emilie Squared, F/F, Hielle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 09:37:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5158925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MintIceTea/pseuds/MintIceTea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle doesn’t always know exactly when Elizabeth will be home, but she knows when something is wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Nights

                There was no rhyme or reason to her lover’s schedule. Belle could go for days without even hearing from her. But Elizabeth found ways to let Belle know where she was. One of her favorites was what Belle had named the ‘lipstick code’ with great fondness.

                Unlocking the door to the library in the mornings would reveal a mug of to-go coffee on the circulation desk. Sometimes it was still warm, sometimes not. But always there would be a smudge of lipstick on the rim, a quick kiss goodbye. Russian Red was a sign for  _I’ve been assigned; be a few weeks_. Fearless was overnight, no more than a week. Fierce was Belle’s favorite. That was the one that meant she’d be home tonight, maybe late, maybe not. But there was nothing that Belle liked more than being awoken by Beth’s gentle kisses as she crawled into bed.

                As Belle left her own pink lip print over Beth’s, she pondered where her lover had been. She hadn’t seen her for over a week, she didn’t realize Beth was in town until the coffee. To all of Belle’s friends, her girlfriend was a photographer for destination weddings. It explained all the exotic photos around their apartment that Beth would bring back. Few of them were actually from vacations. Those were the ones of museums and libraries. Of the girls with their fingers intertwined and smiles on their lips.

                The other ones, though; the ones of churches, flowers, and wildlife. Those were the ones that Elizabeth snapped while on business trips. When she tried to bring back something that proved she was still able to see the beauty in things of normalcy. The trips were she went by the name Hierophant.

                Belle sipped at her coffee, her heart fluttering when her fingertips found a note stuck to the bottom of the cup. She tugged it off and smiled at the familiar handwriting. “Work meeting to welcome the new guy. Love you, Sugar! Xoxo” it read.

                “Love you too, sweetheart,” Belle murmured, her heart feeling lighter. Already looking forward to cuddling on the couch. She had all the missed episodes of  _American Idol_  recorded and waiting.

\--x--

                “Belle? Are you alright, forgive me for being brutal, but you look terrible.” Ruby reached over the desk and pressed her hand to Belle’s forehead.

                “Didn’t get much sleep last night,” Belle responded, giving her friend a thankful smile.

                 “What’s wrong? Is it your dad?” Ruby looked fierce. Upset on Belle’s behalf at her father’s refusal to accept his daughter’s girlfriend. He continued to pretend despite all protests that they were just friends and roommates, nothing more.

                “No, it’s just…Beth didn’t come home last night, I waited up for her.” Belle confided. Ruby was a good friend of both Beth and Belle, the only thing she didn’t know was Beth’s true profession.  

                “Oh.” Ruby bit her lip. “She probably just got tied up finishing the shots from the wedding, right? Sometimes the couples want photobooks immediately and all.”

                “Yeah, I just miss her.” It was more like Beth had been sent on another mission. Though they usually didn’t assign them back to back like this.

                “I know you do. Tell ya what, come by the diner after you close – I’ll make dinner that you can take home. I know you don’t eat when you worry.” Ruby walked around the desk to give Belle a firm hug. “Call me when she gets back? I want to know you’re both ok.”

                “I promise, thank you, Ruby. She should be home tonight.”

\--x--

                Except she wasn’t. Not that night. Nor the next. Belle’s stomach was in constant knots. She felt hurt, and she knew it was petty. But the worry was making her sick, she felt forgotten. Even if she had been sent away again Beth would’ve sent a postcard by now. Even if all it bore was a scribbled heart, just something.

                Belle did her best to go through her normal routines. It was just so hard. She had been staying later at the library or sitting at Granny's diner until closing. Anything to stay away from the apartment. Without Beth’s giggles, or her scattered makeup and clothes. Or even the lingering smell of perfume and coffee, the place felt lifeless. Belle missed waking up to see Beth’s wild blonde hair on the pillow beside her.

                Ruby, Mary, Emma. All their friends were worried, frequently checking in on Belle. She smiled and lied. Saying she was fine, promising she’d show them photos from Beth’s trip when she got back. They'd have girl's night to celebrate.

                The hurt didn’t linger past the first week. The second week Belle was on the verge of panicking.

                By the third week, Belle got her answer.

\--x--

                The library was slow, Belle was trying to distract herself by reading. It took a few chapters, but she was finally distracted enough to startle when a stern voice caught her attention.

                “Isabelle Marie French?”

                “Um, y-yes?” She stood, flustered by the man standing before her desk. Wearing a dark suit and darker sunglasses. Without another word, he held out an envelope with her name printed on it. She took it with trembling fingers, unable to open until he had walked out.

                Reaching for the letter opener didn’t even cross her mind. Her thoughts were spinning, afraid of what was on it. She had a horrible, gut-wrenching, suspicion.

                The first lines only confirmed it.

                 _Miss Isabelle Marie French. On the event of the death of Elizabeth Sarah Wright, known as The Hierophant, --_

                Eyes blurring she fell to the ground. Not realizing the pained, animal, wail came from her own lips. She dropped the letter, pressing her hands to her mouth to hold back the choking sobs that had already begun to escape. Through her tears, she reached for the second scrap of paper that had fallen.

                It was a cheque. A government cheque for an outrageous, offensive sum. In the memo line was a single, horrible word.

                 _“Condolences."_

 

**Author's Note:**

> This popped into my head while I was taking a shower and I made myself upset.


End file.
